Honey B

"You're bad. I thought that's maybe what it was. Honey's resting so she doesn't know about the call," she laughed.

"Good, she what she doesn't know won't upset her. She needs rest and healing. She has all the time she needs to do both."

"Yeah, I know. But if Baker ever found out..."

"Well, I'm not going to worry too much about that 'til it happens. I am, however, going to set up a few surprises for unwelcome visitors."

"I don't even want to ask," she laughed. "I'm going to make some fresh coffee. Want some?"

"Sure, I'll be there in a few minutes," Adam replied, and went back to completing the small project he was working on.

The days went by. Only Adam or Sheila left the property to get supplies, and not together. Honey showed no desire to leave the comfort of the large home, and though physically she was much better, mentally she had hardly started to heal. Sheila decided that she was well enough to start working on that part of her healing. Without seeming to, she began to work with Honey. It would be a long, hard road. She just hoped Honey was up for it.

Adam had transferred all the money out of Baker's account into the one he had opened, then transferred about 10% of it to the account he had opened up for Honey. She wasn't aware of it, but the account held just under a million dollars. Baker had been a prolific and successful thief.

Chapter 6

The high point of John Baker's week turned out to be taken to the police detachment for questioning. He couldn't find his wife, he'd fired his secretary and now the phones were ringing off the hook from investors wondering what was going on with all the money they had invested with him. There were, in fact, so many calls that he set the office phone to go straight to the answering machine. As he had promised the first few callers, he would issue dividend cheques in the hopes that that would at least give him some time to get things together.

The one call he couldn't ignore was from the officials of the small stock exchange where his investment company was listed. They wanted to know about all the phone calls they were getting regarding his account, and what he planned to do to bring the value of the account up to the minimum required to maintain his listing on the exchange. He made the usual assurances that funds were forthcoming immediately, if not sooner. The exchange officials were satisfied, for now.

Damn, he shouldn't have fired that secretary. She could do the dividend cheques and mail them in a couple of hours. He'd have to do it by hand since he had never learned how to use that particular program on the company computer. He set to work, pausing only long enough to ensure that the front door to his office was locked. To get this done he needed no interruptions. The phone continued to ring; more investors with more questions.

Baker finished his task late that afternoon and managed to get the envelopes in the mail before the final pickup for the day. He needed a good, stiff drink, and headed home to complete that very task. He could check his Cayman account from home; he'd done that often enough. Much to his surprise, he was unable to logon. None of the access codes worked; nor did his passwords, old or new. Must be some kind of computer fuck-up he thought. He'd call the bank in the morning from his office and get that straightened out.

Baker didn't sleep well that night. He kept having dreams about investors wanting their money back and holding him hostage until they got it. He was still tired when he headed into the office. He set the phone to answer, instead of going straight to the answering machine. Before he could call his bank in the Caymans, the first of many phone calls for the day started. The cheques he had issued had bounced, NSF. What the hell?

He called his bank and tried to talk to the manager. She was unavailable, but an account manager would call him back within a few minutes. While waiting, he tried to call the bank in the Caymans. The manager would call him back. He was in conference at the moment and couldn't be disturbed.

Finally the account manager of his local bank called him back. No, there were no funds in his business account, and no, he couldn't use the previously arranged line of credit. That account had been frozen and the bank was in the process of issuing a demand for payment. He had 30 days to arrange repayment in full. Stunned, Baker sat back in his office chair, behind his big expensive desk, and wondered just what on earth was going on.

He decided to take an early lunch and try to get back to the Caymans bank later. He went to his favourite restaurant where he was well known, and well regarded. Imagine his surprise when his credit card was refused, as was the next, and the next. He barely had enough cash to cover the check.

He went back to his office to find one of his investors camped out at the door to his office.

Evan Jones was not a happy man. He had met John Baker at a mayoralty function. Baker had a beautiful young woman on his arm, and oozed charm and wealth. Long story short, he had bought into the spiel that Baker was selling and decided to invest about half of his portfolio with Baker's investment company.

Mr. Jones hadn't got as far as he had in life by being a fool. When he first received the mysterious email a couple of days ago, he started doing some checking on his own. No, the Chartered Accountants ostensibly auditing Baker's company were not only not auditing it, they had never even heard of it. Of course Baker hadn't returned his phone call yesterday, certainly 2 red flags. Then he had received a dividend cheque from Baker, only to have payment refused for non sufficient funds. The third red flag. Now Mr. Jones wasn't only worried, he was furious. Not only at Baker, who more than deserved it, but at himself, for going against his gut feeling and falling for the schmooze.

Now he was sitting outside Baker's office waiting for his return. He'd wait as long as he had to. Finally John Baker showed up. He tried to hide his misgivings about having one of his more recent investors waiting outside his office. He invited Mr. Jones in and, in a way that had helped him sell millions of dollars worth of phony investments, reassured the reluctant Mr. Jones that it was all a big misunderstanding. Only later did Jones realize that Baker hadn't answered his pointed questions about the auditors.

Meanwhile, as soon as Evan Jones had left, Baker again locked the office and called the bank in the Caymans. The manager, initially reluctant to speak with him, eventually did. He wondered what his bank had done to deserve having Mr. Baker close his account and transfer all the money out of it. Of course this was news to Baker, and he hung up the phone realizing that maybe, just maybe, everything he had worked toward, namely enriching himself at other's expense, had been for nothing. He began to realize he was flat broke except for the house he now lived in, and it had a sizeable mortgage on it.

He was a very worried and scared man as he locked his office and drove home in his leased Mercedes. Somehow, he thought, his missing wife had to have something to do with all of this. But how? She knew nothing about his business affairs; he had made sure of that. And anyway, she almost needed his help to balance her cheque book every month. No, it had to be something, someone else. But who? Not his investors, surely. They got their dividend cheques regularly and had no problem except for today. He made a mental note to call into the bank and speak with the manager personally. The manager being a woman, he was sure he could get her to see his way. It had always worked before.

Baker couldn't believe that the police were sitting in his driveway waiting for him. As soon as he stepped out of his Mercedes, he was handcuffed and placed in the back of the police cruiser. He was read his rights by the passenger, as the car sped down the street toward the police detachment. To his surprise, it didn't stop there, but continued on to the courthouse. There Baker was led, still in handcuffs behind his back, into a judge's chambers where sat the judge, behind his imposing desk, a crown special prosecutor, and much to his surprise, his own lawyer.

He was relieved to find that this had nothing to do with Honey. His feeling of relief was short lived when the special crown prosecutor laid out the charges. He was under investigation for fraud and theft, numerous counts on each charge. Other charges were, as they were meeting, being filed. By the time the prosecutor finished speaking Baker was in a cold sweat. Outwardly composed and feigning outrage at this treatment, he was realizing that his world as he knew it was coming to an end. Bond would be one million dollars and Baker would have to surrender his passport.

By taking a second mortgage on his home, Baker was able to post bond. His lawyer assured him that they would be able to successfully fight the charges, and with a handshake, left Baker standing on the steps of the courthouse, with no way home except to walk. Baker would deliver the passport to the court tomorrow since it was in his safe deposit box with the bank. This, of course, was a blatant lie. Baker was going to try and run for it, tonight.

As he walked home, after all it was only about two miles, he planned his escape. Thankfully he'd had to foresight to keep an emergency stash of money at home, together with his passport. He'd book an immediate flight to South America as soon as he got home. From there, he could get to the Caymans to find out what the manger had been talking about. He had never closed the account, and despite what he had been told, believed he still had nearly ten million dollars on deposit there.

He arrived home just in time to see his Mercedes being loaded onto a flat deck trailer. The driver, used to being abused by all sorts of people, let Baker rant, then just gave him a copy of the seizure order. His lease payment had not been made on time. If he wanted to discuss it, call the dealership. The driver was just doing his job.

Slowly Baker trudged up the drive and, somewhat unsteadily unlocking the door, went into his house. Of course Honey wasn't there. He hadn't seen her since the day she was admitted to the hospital. He was positive that she had nothing to do with all of the events of the last couple of days. She just didn't have the brains for it.

He poured a good, stiff Scotch and called Air Canada, trying to book an immediate flight to South America. They had none available until two days from now, however American and United both flew daily to all major cities in South America. Perhaps he could book with them. He called the toll-free number for American. If he could get to Seattle, they had a flight leaving for Chile at 1:00AM the next morning. He had about 9 hours to get to Seattle in time for that flight. Too far to drive, and anyway, he didn't have a car. He was able to book a flight on Alaska Airlines to Seattle. It would get him into Seattle in plenty of time to catch his flight to Chile.

Somewhat relieved that finally things seemed to be going his way, Baker went into his home office and opened the safe containing a stash of 200 thousand dollars, his passport, and other important papers. Relieved that it was all there, he went into the bedroom and packed a small bag, packing only the essentials needed for a couple of days. Anything else he needed, he could buy at his destination. He called a taxi and was informed that the fare to Kelowna International Airport would be approximately $150, but they could have a car at his door in twenty minutes. He assured the dispatcher that this was satisfactory, poured another Scotch, and sat to wait for the taxi.

For what he thought was the final time, John Baker locked the front door of his home. Since he was travelling light, the cabbie didn't need to help him with his bag. He settled into the back seat, resigned to spending at least an hour and a half getting to the airport. At least they wouldn't hit rush hour; he time to spare to catch his flight to Seattle.

Almost five hours later, John Baker was unlocking the door to the house he thought he'd never see again. Try as he might, he was unable to talk his way off of the no fly list and onto an airplane. Yes, that was him, yes that was his birthday and passport number, but he had never supported the Tamil Tigers. He wasn't even all that sure he knew who they were. The airport people were as adamant as they were apologetic. There was no way Mr. Baker would be catching a flight to Seattle or anywhere else this evening. The matter would have to be straightened out in Ottawa, and that could take a few days. Admitting defeat, Baker arranged for another taxi back to Melville.

Chapter 7

Adam, Sheila and Honey knew nothing of what was going on with John Baker. Oh, Adam knew about the bank accounts and other things, but not the details of what Baker was going through. It had only been a couple of days, but he could sense that Honey was responding to Sheila's treatment. At least she no longer sounded or talked like a doormat.

A week after Honey had been hidden away from John Baker Adam received a call from his friend Josh.

"Adam, I'm trying to get hold of Honey Baker. Do you know where she is?" he asked.

"Matter of fact, I do. She's sitting on my patio drinking coffee with my sister at this very moment, why?" Josh wouldn't call unless it was important.

"I've got some news for Mrs. Baker. Can I come out and see her, or would she prefer to come into the detachment?"

"Uh, well, I think she'd prefer that you come out here. How about we throw in a lunch? You can talk to her then."

"Deal. I'll see you in awhile." Josh ended the call. Well, it would either be welcome news, or a disaster. It depended upon how she felt about what her husband had done now.

Josh pulled up to the house just as Adam was leaving the garage. "See you made it. Guess you public servants will do anything for free food," laughed Adam.

"Yeah, well, you know how our poor salaries are," Josh laughed in return. "Look, before we go in, John Baker was found in his house this morning. He's been dead for two or three days. The coroner is still investigating, but it looks like he took an overdose of sleeping pills washed down with half a bottle of Scotch."

"Oh, shit. Where does that leave her?"

"Well, she's a widow. Other than that, it looks like everything will have to be handled by a receiver. It's quite a mess. I just found out he was under investigation for numerous counts of fraud and theft. They had a special prosecutor handling the investigation. From what little they told me, he was looking at serious time. And he's got a bunch of really pissed investors, his victims, screaming from the rafters. Some very important people are thoroughly pissed, and embarrassed."

"Holy oh shit. I wasn't aware. Do you think she had anything to do with it?"

"No, there's no indication she was involved at all. Unfortunately Baker didn't leave a note or anything. Just a whole bunch of debt. He'd just remortgaged his house to post bond for the fraud and theft charges."

"Come on, the women are out on the patio. I guess that's as good a place as any to break this to her. Just remember, she's had a pretty bad time of it. Sheila's treatments are just starting to work. Hope this doesn't set her back." Adam led Josh through the house and out onto the patio.

After the introductions were made, Josh told Honey why he was there, and gave her as much information as he could, which really wasn't all that much. More would come out in the ensuing days, but for now, as the next of kin, she had to decide what to do with the body after the coroner finished his investigation to confirm suicide. He would call Honey here, if it was all right, to discuss it in the next day or so.

During the lunch that followed, Honey didn't say or eat much, almost as if trying to digest the news that the policeman had delivered. She felt neither sorrow nor relief, just a sort of numbness that comes with receiving, what would be under normal circumstances, bad news. Her problem was she didn't think it was all that bad. Though she wanted away from Baker entirely, she hadn't wanted him dead. It would take her awhile to come to terms with it.

As Josh was preparing to leave, Adam asked, "What now Josh? I mean, with Honey. She obviously had nothing to do with his death or any of his business dealings. Where does she stand in all this?"

Josh had sort of been prepared for the question, expecting that it would be Honey who asked, "I really don't know. As far as I know as of about an hour ago, the prosecutor was going to assign the whole file to an administrator, and all them to sort out the whole mess. I know that at some point they'll want to interview her." He turned to Honey, "Honey, are you going to stay here? Is this where you can be contacted?"

Adam answered for her, "She'll be here. I've already told her she can stay as long as she needs or wants to. She's still recovering from the hospital."

Josh nodded. As he walked out to his cruiser said, "Okay, I'll let the powers that be know. They'll advise you when they want to talk to her. You'll bring her in?"

Adam nodded, "Whenever they need, or they could come out here." Josh thanked his friend and drove off back into town.

Adam returned to the patio where the women sat waiting. Honey spoke for the first time in quite awhile, "You know I never expected that would ever happen. I thought maybe I'd just get away and never hear his name again. I don't know what he was up to, but if they had a special prosecutor..."

"Honey, I don't know all the details," answered Adam, "but he was running what's called a Ponzi Scheme. Do you know what that is?" She shook her head, no. "Okay, what he does, or what they do is make promises of huge returns on any money that someone invests in his or their company, usually some kind of investment company supposedly trading in stocks, bonds, that sort of thing. Simplified, what happens is that new investor's money is used to pay the promised returns to older investors. Baker took it one step further, and stole from his investors as well, salting the money away in a bank in the Cayman Islands. Okay so far?"

"So, that's the fraud and theft that Josh talked about?" Sheila asked.

"Pretty much. Baker's problems began when I was able to log onto his business computer. Being the arrogant ass that he was, he thought his security measures were adequate. They weren't. Long story short, I opened new accounts in different banks and stole all his money back from him. It's sitting in the accounts now."

"So you have..." started Honey.

"Well, in a matter of speaking. I'd prefer that this doesn't go any further than the three of us for now, but I opened two accounts, one for the money that Baker stole, and a second one. What I hope to do is anonymously advise the administrator the details of the accounts and where and how to retrieve the money. There's almost nine million dollars. The investors won't recoup everything, but they'll get some of their money back, eventually."

"You mentioned a second account. What's that about?" asked Sheila, still trying to digest what her brother had done. Is stealing from a thief illegal? She wasn't about to worry about it. Adam could cover his tracks pretty well, and he hadn't obtained any of the money for himself.

"Yeah, there is. I promise full disclosure when the time comes. Until then, we never had this conversation. Right?" Adam replied.

Both of the women nodded. Honey was really worried, even scared, at what was going on. She thought that somehow she could be held responsible for all this mess. She and Sheila talked it over after Josh had returned to the garage. In the end, Honey agreed that it was useless to worry since there was so much they didn't know. Between them, they decided that they would do nothing and let Adam do all the talking except when it came to a formal interview with Honey. Sheila told her that either she or Adam, or both, would sit in with her.